Valentines Day Story
by secretauthor16032016
Summary: A&E
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The house stood still on the green mountainside, shrouded by thick trees and fields of still, dewy grass. It was high above the river, with a view of a verdant valley, lush with life and growth. The early morning light cast a cool lilac haze over the land, up the valley and onto the balcony of the house. A dawn chorus of birdsong lifted the chill haze, and soon the sun began to slowly slide above the mountain tops of the horizon.

A young woman stood alone on the balcony, looking out over the valley with a pensive expression on her pale face. The dawn air was fresh and damp, raising gooseflesh over her bare forearms and chilling the soles of her feet. Dressed only in her nightgown, she gazed at the unfamiliar scene below, listening to the birds, until the sun had risen to warm her through.

Emma turned away only when the servants had arrived. She could hear them in her room, and quickly crossed the balcony, shutting the windowed doors behind her.

'Good morning' she politely addressed her maids, two English servants brought with them from their house in London.

'Did you sleep well my lady?' Tabby asked, placing her clothes for the day on her bed to be unpacked. She was the shorter of the two, thin with rich chestnut hair, and had a quiet disposition which Emma shared.

'I did, thank you. Though I cannot think why, being in such a place.' Emma turned again to look outside at the strange landscape she now lived in. Her new bedroom, though spacious, was unfamiliar and lacked the luxuries of her old suite. Everything was different here. The sounds, smells, sights. She felt a lump rise in her throat when again she realised, as she had in her dreams last night, that her and her family were 5000 miles away from home.

Emily, her other maidservant, was pouring hot water in a porcelain basin to wash the night's sweat away. It was a warm country, and would take a while to get used to. The steam rose up into the high ceiling, curling around a delicate crystal chandelier.

Lifting her arms for Tabby, Emma let herself be dressed and washed ready for the day. Her thick unruly hair was pinned back into an elegant style, and her gossamer white night dress was replaced by a fine baby blue silk dress of the regency style. With grudging steps, she exited her bedchamber and headed along the corridors of the manor house to the breakfast room.

Located on the border of India next to the mountainous country of Nepal, the de Silva family had been given a very comfortable and well-guarded property, if a little isolated. Valmiki was thick with jungle, perfect for hiding the colonel's family safely during the beginning of the Anglo-Nepalese War. It was to be a quick victory, Emma and her mother had been assured. But both had their doubts, and both wanted to go back to London and the luxuries of fine society.  
The British soldier's camp was not too far away, and many of the officers were present around the house most days, taking orders and making plans for new invasive action. It was busy with comings and goings, in the year of 1815.

Emma spent many a dull day that late spring, playing cards with the servants, embroidering with her mother, watching the soldiers arrive and depart. She was schooled in the local languages of the region, Hindi and Nepali, to be of use to her family in the future once they established British occupation. She had been learning since a young age, when her father knew he would be posted.

Emma enjoyed speaking the language, but the lessons were still another reason to stay inside. She was not allowed to leave the premises under any circumstances, but with every passing day, her compliance to obey her father became increasingly questioned.  
She heard stories about the Nepali soldiers, and wondered what they looked like. What did they wear? What did they eat? Were they really wild jungle men like her family so passionately believed?  
As time dragged on, the view of the valley became less strange to her, and became an enticing vision. When she rested in the garden beneath a parasol in the increasingly hot days, Emma's mind wandered into exciting day dreams of what lay in that deep green jungle.  
She remembered illustrations of elephants and tigers from books she had read, and became overwhelmed with the desire to explore. A note of fear was always present in these day dreams - what if she was devoured by a wild animal, became lost, or worst of all, fell into the hands of an enemy soldier? But strangely, the more she thought about it, the more she concluded that anything would be better than staying locked up.

Although young, Emma was not naive. Despite her active imagination, she understood the only way to explore was to travel to the nearest town, she would have to satisfy her curiosity with that alone - of course, being out in the jungle realistically would be impossible for a young English woman. Besides, her father needed all the men he could get to aid the war, they couldn't afford to be out combing the mountains for her if she were to be lost.  
Emma's wish was granted when, after pestering her father relentlessly, she was allowed to travel to the nearest town by horseback with an accompaniment of several guards. She was permitted to "take a wander around the market" and to "gaze about the place" and then she was to be taken back before the sun set. Although frustratingly limiting, she would take what she could get.

The day she was allowed into town was so exciting, Emma could scarcely stand still. She hung around the large front door all morning and lunchtime, waiting with mounting impatience for the guards to arrive. When, finally they were relieved from their duties and came to meet her, she was found already with her boots, shawl, sunhat and parasol at the ready. Emma was helped up onto a beautiful white horse by her father, and then off with five cavalry soldiers, they headed off into the lush green depths.  
The path was rough, rocky and winding through the steep edges of the mountainside. More than once Emma peered over the right side of her horse and looked down at the steep banks of vegetation. 'I wouldn't want to find myself down there' she thought, and shivered as a strange feeling passed over her. She pressed a white gloved hand to her arm to quell some of the goosebumps.  
Emma admitted to herself she was nervous, even with the guards with her. They were vulnerable, and the town was still several miles away. However she had been reassured by her father this route was safe and free of any threat. She shook off the feeling, and chatted with the soldiers to ease her nerves.

They came out of the blue, materialising in the vegetation around the path like ghosts. It must have been five or ten men, she wasn't sure, she wasn't able to count. Before she could process what was happening, she heard the deafening blows of gunshots in her ears, and heard the clash of swords. Her horse reared and she clung onto it's neck with a surge of adrenaline strength. The men were upon them: in front of her very eyes she saw one of the horses fall from a bullet to the head, crushing a man underneath it. The guard closest to her had his throat slit with a kukri, the gaping wound spouted blood onto her white horse's side.

Her horse reared again, and this time, her grip came too late. She fell backwards, hit the floor and rolled off the edge of the mountain path.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Shock hit the young soldier like a solid wall. He stopped dead in his tracks and took a step back, his dark eyes wide with disbelief. Stunned, he stood and stared at the body of a young woman, lying in a crumpled heap before him.

For once in his life, the young soldier was utterly and completely unsure of what to do. He clenched his fists and unclenched them. Looked around as if the answer would present itself, and then looked back at her.

She was white, that much was sure. Pale as the Himalaya snow. Why was there a white woman here? He noticed her injuries after he noticed her skin. She was bruised, and her head was bloody. Did she fall? He looked up the side of the steep valley and saw the signs that she had. Broken branches, uprooted earth, even her once white dress was now soiled with mud, debris and a patch of blood. He thought he could see a faint rise and fall of her chest, indicating she was still breathing.  
Why hadn't anyone come to rescue her? He listened intently and stared up into the mountain, hoping that he would hear something. When he was met with silence, he turned his attention back to the woman. He remembered then that some of this brothers had headed that way at dawn to survey the passage to the village. Perhaps she escaped an attack.

She was an enemy. He drew his kukri and stepped a little closer. But then something made him sheathe his sword. She was a young woman, alone and helpless. A feeling of sympathy rose inside him. What would she do if no one came to find her? The sun was already beginning to descend.

Ashwin walked a little closer to her prone body, feeling nervous for reasons he did not know why. The closer he was, he better he could see the extent of her injuries. It looked like she had hit her head quite badly on the way down. Someone should dress that injury, he thought. He knelt beside her, and confirmed for definite that she was still breathing. Her pulse was strong, which relieved Ashwin, but he wondered how long it would stay strong if she were to be here alone any longer. A tiger wouldn't think twice about tearing her apart.

He noticed for the first time, at this closer distance, that she was in fact, rather beautiful, strangely different from any woman ever seen. He felt himself relax, shutting out his worries, as he took the time to truly look at this strange woman. Her golden hair, in disarray from the brutal descent, shone in the setting sun like fire. His gentle gaze travelled from her hair to her softly illuminated face. The young woman's eyes were shut, but he noticed her long lashes, brushing softly against her rosy cheeks. A smattering of freckles decorated her nose like stars. His eyes roamed down to her small lips, pink and plump. It was a sweet face, he decided, despite the cut on her forehead.

His brow furrowed in thought. This was a difficult situation. He stood and looked behind him, the way he had come. He was scouting for a war party, they would be expecting him back soon. Helping this girl would be considered treason, and he would suffer dire consequences if they found out. Ashwin turned and looked down at the helpless girl. If I took her back to camp, they would use her as a hostage. If I take her back to her home I'll be taken hostage, if not killed… he considered his options with a sharp mind. He had to make a decision, fast.

He couldn't leave her here to die.

If he treated her wounds as quickly as possible, she could find her way home alone, and neither of them would be in danger. Relieved to have found a solution, he bent down to pick her up. Her body was light, and for a solider she was an easy weight to carry. The young woman mumbled something at the feeling of being lifted, but then fell back into silence.  
Ashwin readjusted the weight of her in his arms, and then headed off into the jungle to find a hideout where neither of them could be found.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The gentle sound of a fire crackling and the smell of warm woodsmoke filtered through into Emma's subconscious mind. She became slowly aware of the feel of a blanket over her and the hard ground beneath her. Gradually, Emma became aware that she was awake. The memories of her fall came back in vivid detail, and without thinking, her stomach lurched in fear. She snapped her eyes open and tried to sit upright, but before she could, pain rippled through her limbs and she gasped. Suddenly, strong and steady hands were on her, holding her up.

She looked up, wide-eyed, into the face of an enemy soldier, and though her first instinct was to shrink back in fear, her mind told her that he was no threat. The man passed her a small cup filled with aromatic tea, which she gingery took.  
He moved back to give her space, sitting by a small fire. Before she could assess the Nepalese man that had saved her, she looked around. It looked like they were in a cave, she could see the entrance a fair bit away, but it was dark outside. It must have been a while now since she fell. Her head was throbbing, but she could feel a cool poultice and bandage had been applied.

Suddenly, the memories of the attack came back in lucid, awful detail, and she squeezed her eyes shut, gripping the cup tightly.

The men who had so brutally killed her father's soldiers, who had almost killed her - he was one of them. The enemy. Her heart accelerated and she was frightened, yet her mind reminded her that he had rescued her, she was alive and drinking tea. Emma calmed her breathing and warily turned her head, looking at the stranger with a careful curiosity.

The flickering light painted his skin like burnished copper. His arms were bare and looked strong, but the rest of his body was covered from view in an unusual outfit. He wore a pale tunic, secured at the waist with a thick leather belt. Loose cloth trousers and boots were worn under it. It was strange for her to see a man in this costume, but she did not dislike it. His black hair was cropped short, and on his face there was some facial hair. Definitely not as thick as British men's beards, but more defined and neat, she thought.

Her eyes wandered to his face, and she was surprised at herself for instantly thinking of the word 'handsome'. But she would be a fool to deny it. Beautiful almond eyes, dark and deep, stared into the fire, pretending he didn't see her looking at him from the corner of his eye. He took a sip of tea, and her attention moved to his full lips. He had high cheekbones and smooth, youthful skin, yet he looked every bit a grown man. His shoulders were wide and his chest, arms and legs looked well-built. Emma admitted to herself that he was probably the most captivatingly handsome man she had ever seen.

He shifted position and the firelight caught on the metal clasp on his belt, where his dagger hung. The unique shape of the kukri brought back the memory of her father's soldier being sliced open at the throat.  
She squeezed her eyes shut and hugged herself, spilling some of the tea on her already soiled dress. How will she get home? What will her family do when they hear about the attack? What will this soldier do to her?

She looked at him. Warm brown eyes, turned a molten amber by the firelight, held her gaze.

It was steady, warm and safe.  
Emma finished her tea, ignored her throbbing head, and without thinking of anything more, settled back into a deep sleep.

Ashwin watched the young woman sleep, relieved that she had not been too scared when she had woken. He wished he could speak to her, to tell her that he was no threat. The English language was something he was definitely not familiar with. Nevertheless, he would guide her home as soon as she could walk.

He slept lightly through the night, occasionally waking to monitor the girl and keep the fire fed. He was keeping his senses alert for any sound of soldiers passing outside. As soon as the light outside was paling to a grey lavender, he headed out to hunt.

The sun had risen above the horizon by the time he returned with some fish caught in the river. It was cold and damp, but already the heat of the sun was beginning to warm the land. He had been careful to leave no trace of himself by the rocky river, nervous as he was of his brothers or any British soldiers finding him. Their cave was well hidden in the edge of the mountain, covered by vegetation and thick bush - but he didn't want to take any risks. He entered the cave and was surprised to see the young woman sitting up wide and awake.

Ashwin sat next to the fire, feeding it some more deadwood and then getting the fish to begin descaling. He didn't pay much attention to the woman, until she spoke quietly.

'Hello.'

His surprise was obvious on his face, because she smiled shyly. She looked away, tucking a strand of messy hair behind her ear. Ashwin's eyes were involuntarily drawn to the smooth skin of her neck she had exposed.  
'My name is Emma. Thank you for…' she paused, seeming a little nervous, 'all your help.'

Ashwin was again surprised at the young woman's ability to speak with him. Where had she learnt? Her accent was quite heavy, but she was easily understandable. He continued to descale the fish, trying to act nonplused.

'My name is Ashwin Rana. You do not have to thank me for the help.' he looked at her again, noticing her bandages. He should change them soon. 'Your head, it was in quite a bad state yesterday.'

Emma reached and touched the bandage around her temple. Tenderly feeling the extent of the wound. Her face winced. 'It hurts, but not as badly as before…' she drifted off. Ashwin could feel the question in the air she was about to ask. 'Why did you save me, Ashwin Rana?'

He was still not entirely sure of the answer himself. But he told her what he knew was true, 'I could not leave an innocent to die.'

She nodded slowly, taking in his words. 'Still, thank you…you saved my life, risking your own to do so. How can I possibly repay you?'

Ashwin had finished one of the fish, and layered it over the fire to bake. He started on the next. 'There is no need. When you are ready, I will help you home. Then we will part ways.'

'But there must be something I can do for you.'

'There is not.' He smiled a little at her persistence. He had heard that the British were an incredibly stuck-up and prideful people. But this girl did not seem to be this way. 'But, perhaps you can help me eat this when it is done.'

She smiled, and moved closer to the fire. Ashwin could feel her presence so strongly, it unnerved him. He felt tense as she settled down beside him. He quickly distracted himself.

'I need to change your bandage, Emma.' He got up and moved away, rummaging for some supplies in his travel sack.

'Where did you learn to treat wounds? Are you a medic?'

'All Nepalese soldiers know, to help their brothers and their families.'

He sat back down, swallowing hard as he sat so close to her. Her dress was dirty, her hair messy and she was definitely not freshly bathed…but he could not deny that he was attracted to her, more than any woman he had ever met.

'Do you have a family?' She asked, looking up from under long lashes whilst he began to remove her head wrap and poultice. His fingers gently grazed over her hair whilst he did so, and he felt its softness. He longed to play with her unusual hair, feel it in his hands.

'Uhm… yes I do.' For a second there was a flash of something in her eyes, was it disappointment?

'You have children?' She asked softly.  
'Oh, no. I am not married.' He observed her and confirmed to himself that she seemed affected in some way by this information. 'I have a mother, father and little sister back in the village.'

'They must miss you.'

'I am sure your family miss you too.' He checked on her revealed head wound. There was a gash, which he had washed and applied a cooling poultice on yesterday. The swelling had decreased, but it still looked raw.

'Yes I suppose they must be worried for me…they probably think I died along with my father's soldiers yesterday.'

'Well, they will be happy to see you alive soon. Your wound is better. I will apply a new poultice and wrap. Your bruises are still bad though.' Ashwin sorted through his supplies and found the necessary herbs. He put some water on to boil over the fire.

Emma looked at her forearms, for they were all she could see of her body. The bruises were deep purple with red patches. She could feel tenderness all over her body, but nothing hurt as bad as her head. She wondered how long it would be before she could walk back home.

'Thank you for looking after me.'

'I told you - you do not need to thank me. I will take care of you. Here, this fish is ready.' he handed her the crispy cooked fish, which she quickly devoured.

When they had eaten and Emma had her new bandage on, they drank tea and avoided talking about the war which sought to divide their newly found friendship. Emma explained how she had learnt to speak Nepali, taught from a young age because her father knew they would one day be living here, a new imperial land for Great Britain.

The more he listened to her, the more Ashwin realised to himself that he could not leave her half way, or almost home. Her survival was his priority, his mission. He would deliver her home to the front door. The thought of her being captured or killed was too painful for him to think about.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

It had been four days by the time Ashwin decided it was safe for her to venture outside. He knew his comrades, that they would not be out on patrol this far south late in the evening. They would have all headed back to base. However, he did not know how far south the British soldiers might travel, and this made him incredibly uneasy.  
Nevertheless, the girl needed a wash and some fresh air, so they headed to the river together at dusk. The sun had just slipped below the mountain line, the sky was a wash of pink and golden hues, gradually fading to a deep grey blue. It was a stunning sunset, and he stared at the sky determined to admire it and nothing else.

He could hear her splashing in the water, but his honour forbade him from turning to see. His mind rebelliously replaced the beautiful sky with beautiful images of a bare-skinned Emma. Angrily he shook his head from such vulgar thoughts. He cannot be thinking such things when he was her guardian. They had been talking almost non-stop since he found out she could speak his language, and he could not deny how quickly they had become close. She already knew everything about him, and he her.

Their easy friendship made it harder for him to distance himself, but he knew he must. He couldn't be thinking of her in such a way…  
Ashwin calmed his breathing and strained his ears, but could not hear anything beside the movement of the water and a slight breeze in the evening air.

As he had advised, she was quick in washing herself and her muddy dress. He heard her soft voice and turned around.  
'I am clean. Let's head back before the sun sets.' for a moment he was rendered speechless. Dressed in his baggy tunic, she held her wet dress in her pale hands. The baggy fabric of his uniform hung off her shoulders, dropping down to reveal clean, creamy white skin in the valley between her breasts. Her hair was damp, formed in spiralling golden curls, a beautiful transformation from the knotted mess it had been before. But most beautiful of all, was her eyes. Shining grey-blue eyes, the colour of the mountain rock, the river, the sky at dawn. He had never seen eyes like this. The last rays of sunshine illuminated her in all her natural beauty for him to see.

'Let's go.' he took the wet dress from her hands and headed back to the cave at a fast walk. He heard her trotting along, trying to keep up with his soldier pace. He attempted and failed at clearing his mind; this woman was beginning to affect him in unprecedented ways.

Emma hurried along after him, nearly tripping in the process. She didn't admit to herself the reason for her near fall was that she had been staring at his muscular back instead of the uneven ground. When he had removed his tunic for her to wear after her river bath, she had to hide her burning cheeks. His skin was so beautifully coloured, like sweet caramel. His muscles were impressive and for a moment she had wanted so badly to reach out and feel the planes of his bare chest. She had read romantic novels before, gifted by friends her own age. They all featured similar stories to what she was living; the chivalrous hero giving the woman his own clothes to spare her dignity, whilst he was rescuing the maiden from harm. It was romantic, but she knew she should not be feeling this for a Gurkha soldier - a man she could never be with, a man who would never feel the same way about the enemy white woman.

This truth caused a sinking in her heart, but she knew she had to be realistic. Although she had quickly become friends with him, although they had fascinating conversations that lasted all day, although he was achingly handsome, she had to be realistic. She was only 21 years of age, still susceptible to passing fancies. She could not let herself become attracted to him… but part of her knew it was too late for that.

They were as different as two people could be by circumstance and upbringing - and yet here she was.

When they arrived back at the cave, she hung her old white dress up from a rocky protrusion in the wall. It would never be truly clean again, but at least it was not as soiled as before. She preferred her new outfit, it was soft, warm and had a lovely smell to it. It took her a second to realise why it smelt so nice and she hid another blush. The smell was earthy, masculine… and strangely comforting.

She eased herself back down on the reed sleeping mat and blanket Ashwin had given her. Her bruises were getting less painful everyday, as was the gash on her head, still covered with a bandage.

'I think you are well enough to travel home tomorrow, at first light' said Ashwin, his face flickering in the low firelight. The thought of returning home, going back to her old life after this experience, of never seeing her rescuer again, made her heart sink even further, to an extent she had never felt before. He would be lost to her forever.

'How long will it take to get back?'

'It should be no more than a day's walk or two. However we need to be extremely wary of anyone seeing us. You know how dangerous that would be.'

Emma nodded, processing the horrible implications. 'I understand we need to be cautious.'

'Yes, after all my trouble to heal you - I don't want you captured.' He grinned at her and then went back to poking the fire. Emma loved seeing his smile. The flash of white teeth sent a strange feeling through her that she did not recognise. She was saddened again at the thought she would never see that smile again come tomorrow.

The air in the cave was warm, slowly drying her damp body. She felt fresh and rejuvenated from the cold river dip, her whole body full of feeling, despite her low mood. She moved a little closer to the fire so her hair could dry faster.

'What are you doing?'

'I was just about to sharpen my blade, I hope I won't be needing it tomorrow, but we don't know' he replied, reaching to the kukri which hung on his belt. She watched the metal shine like sunlight on still water, dazzling her. As he began grinding the stone to the knife's edge in a steady rhythm, her mind began to wander.

What would her mother and father say once she arrived home? Would they unleash their anger on the Nepalese army? If they were all like Ashwin, then she could not bear the thought of any of them dying. This was their land after all. Her people were the invaders. She felt deeply ashamed of Britannia in that moment.

For the first time since meeting, she broached the subject neither of them had wanted to say.

'I'm sorry for what my country has done to your people.'

Ashwin looked up, pausing in his activity. She met his eyes, and saw his face soften. He offered her a small smile. 'There is no need to be sorry, funny girl.' He went back to sharpening. 'You did not give the orders, did you?'

'No…I guess not. But still, this is your land. And my family, my father, he is helping to bring down your army.' Emma paused, staring into the flames. 'My father is ordering the killing of your brothers. I cannot ever comprehend the tragedy that war brings to ordinary people. Truly I am sorry.' She thought about his brothers in arms, his family back in the village, all the people he knew. Their lives were at stake, and for what? Another addition to the empire. She continued to stare in to the flames, the travesty of colonialism gaining full recognition in her young mind. How could she have been so brainwashed her entire life? Where was the glory of Britain when all it did was murder and invade?

She felt a rise in her throat, and the prickle of tears in her eyes when she thought that maybe her rescuer would become a casualty of this war. 'What if you get killed?' she spoke, her voice breaking.

Ashwin, who had been watching her intently, put down the knife entirely. He shuffled closer and took her delicate snow white fingers into his own, enclosing them in both his hands.

'Emma look at me.'

She looked up, failing to hold back the tears which flowed one by one down her cheeks. The feeling of his strong hands encompassing hers made her feel safe, but the bleakness in her heart would not be quelled so easily.

'You do not need to be so sad.' Ashwin looked down at her, his eyes reflecting on her own sorrow. She could see he was upset too, at her own sadness or his own she wasn't sure. 'This war will not last forever. Nepal will survive. Look at India - the people may be oppressed by the British, but they are alive. We will be alright.'

When his reassuring words did not stop the flow of tears, he gathered her in his arms, tucking her head under his chin. He held her shaking body close, letting her release the built-up anguish that had been heavy on her shoulders ever since she was attacked.  
Emma melted into his embrace, letting herself be held and calmed with his sturdy presence. Her face nestled against his collarbone, her hand snaked up to rest against his neck, holding him close. She could feel his arms around her, and his hands on her back, one stroking her hair softly.  
By the time her breathing had evened out and the tears had dried up, the sun had long since set. She felt drowsy and limp in his arms, exhausted from the tumult of her emotions.

He was still holding her, rocking slightly, despite the fact she was no longer crying. The feeling was one of the most blessed she had ever felt in her life. The warmth that seemed to flow from his body washed over her, and she found herself never wanting to leave the embrace. It felt like a dream, one she never wanted to end. His smell, his warmth, his beauty, his presence, he was everything she wanted, everything she needed.

She felt her eyelids getting heavy, and as selfish as it was of her, she couldn't keep herself awake any longer.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Here she was, the woman he had tried to distance himself from, in his arms asleep. He couldn't believe how good it felt to hold her, to comfort her in her tears. He had never held a woman his age, never stroked her hair, never felt the warmth of her body against his own. His blood stirred as she moved in her sleep, her breasts pressing against the bare skin of his chest. Only the thin fabric of his tunic separated them from each other.

He knew he should not be enjoying this as much as he was, she had been in tears, and it had moved him deeply to see the change in her. The British chief commander's own daughter, crying for the loss of his men, his people. He would not have believed it unless witnessing it himself. Seeing her cry for him, it made him believe, almost for a moment, that she held some affection for him. Of course, she couldn't have, he was not what a British high-born woman would find attractive. She wouldn't lower herself to feel anything for him other than gratitude.

And yet, feeling her clinging to his chest, he could fool himself into believing for a little while, that she did.

It was a while before Ashwin decided it was time to wake her. It was not an easy decision, in fact it was an incredibly difficult decision. It was getting late, and neither of them had eaten anything for dinner. They had a long journey tomorrow, and needed all the energy they could get.

'Emma' he leaned back, prising her sleeping body away from his. Immediately he felt cold. 'Emma, wake up.'

She slowly blinked open her sleep-puffed eyes. One of her cheeks was red from where it had been pressed onto his chest. Her lips were rosy pink and parted as she let out a small yawn. She looked adorable.

'Sorry I fell asleep, was I gone for long?' she asked, rubbing her eyes.

'Not too long' he lied. His eyes were drawn to her lips, they looked so soft. 'How are you feeling?'

'I'm alright. Sorry about all…that.' Her eyes cast downward, obviously embarrassed about her outburst. Ashwin acted without thinking, taking her head softly between his hands. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead where her bandage was. He looked down at her, her head still between his hands. Her eyes were wide and shining in the firelight, reflecting the movement of the flames.

'You do not need to apologise to me, I promised I would look after you.' He watched as her eyes flicked to his lips for a split second. The heat of the fire, and the tenderness of the moment made him lean a little closer. He could feel her breath lightly on his cheeks. He watched her eyelids flutter, then close. His thumb gently traced her cheek, and then moved across her lips, feeling the texture with slow, deliberate movement. The moment felt surreal, like a dream. He leaned forward, ghosting his lips over hers, and to his surprise, he felt her move towards him, so their lips pressed together as one.

The kiss was slow, explorative and achingly tender. He flicked out his tongue, tasting her sweet rosebud lips. She moved closer towards him, placing her hands around his neck to deepen the kiss. She was tentative and inexperienced, but he found it endearing to feel her demurely exquisite tongue on his own. She began to suck on his bottom lip, causing him to issue a deep rumble of pleasure. Her mouth was so warm and tasted so good. He held her close, his hands skimming her arms and grabbing her waist, feeling the enticing womanly curves of her body beneath his baggy tunic.

Her hands fisted in his hair, her nails scraping over his scalp drawing hisses of pleasure as she moved even closer. He lifted her onto his lap, hungrily covering her mouth with his as he lost himself to her. She overpowered his senses, evoking in him feelings he didn't even know existed within him. In this moment nothing was real besides the feel of her petite body in his hands and the delicious taste of her on his lips. He felt one of her hands move to his bare chest, she pressed her palms against it, feeling the movement of his supple muscles beneath the skin.

He was breathless, his blood rushing in his ears. There was an urgent straining in his manhood that grew and grew with every pant or gasp she made against his lips. At his touch she blossomed like a flower, opening herself to him, exploring as eagerly as he. Every one of his senses was overwhelmed with her, his touch, his sight, his taste, his smell. She was sweet and pure and beautiful, but his passion matched hers and it was too much for him. His hands roamed up to cup her ample breasts through the thin fabric and she moaned into the kiss. He felt overcome with the need to roughly take Emma, claiming her. To demonstrate to her that she belonged to him and no other.

As soon as the thought entered his head he was surprised, she doesn't belong to me. She isn't mine to take.

Suddenly, he broke the kiss, pushing her back. He caught his breath and smiled sheepishly at her, removing her from his lap. He looked away, cleaning his throat. 'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that.'

'It's alright,' Emma said, looking at the ground. Her cheeks were bright pink, and her lips swollen from the rough kiss. Her hair was tangled and, to Ashwin's remorse, her bare shoulder was exposed, her creamy skin sending shivers of desire through him. As much as it drove him mad, he could not take her.

Emma watched as Ashwin added more wood to the fire, stirring it up so that golden embers wafted up into the dark ceiling of the cave. Neither of them spoke. She was afraid of seeming too eager or too disappointed. In fact, she wasn't quite sure how to react, to the kiss or to Ashwin's sudden show of restraint.  
She had never been kissed before, it was not proper for a young lady to be kissed by anyone other than her intended. But that had sent her body into a fiery bliss which she had never experienced, his touch and his kiss had her shaking. Her heart was still beating fast, her cheeks still flushed from the sudden rush of excitement. But now it was over, he had pushed her away.  
Was he being a gentlemen, not wanting to take it too far for her virtue's sake? Or was he simply regretting kissing her? It was probably a bad kiss for him, it was her first, after all. She felt self-conscious and yet bold after the encounter. All that was in her mind was one thing: when was it going to happen again?

She looked at him for a long time, trying to discern what he was feeling. His face was flushed, and she did notice his hand conveniently covering the bump she had felt when she was on his lap. She smiled a little to herself, she remembered talking with her friends back in London, gossiping as young girls do, about the 'intimates' of marriage. What happened on your wedding night - to be precise. She may be naive on the details on those intimates, but she knew what was down there, and the thought sent a wave of desire through her, pooling in her lower stomach like a hot stone sinking in water. She felt emboldened and had the courage to ask him some questions she longed to know the answer to.

'Have you ever…done that before?' she asked.

'Um…I have kissed girls before, back in the village when I was younger. But not like that.' He looked awkward answering her questions, but she persisted.

'Not like that?' It could mean either in a good way or a bad way. 'What do you mean Ashwin?'

'It was, um, better with you.' he cleared his throat and focused on the fire intently. Emma couldn't help the small grin on her face. She took pleasure in watching him look uncomfortable in this regard, surely it was because he found her attractive? The thought made her glow with happiness.

After a dinner of lentil soup and rice, what Emma had learned was called 'dahl bhaat' and some steaming ginger tea, the two lapsed into easy conversation. The topic of their encounter forgotten, but clearly brimming under the surface. Ashwin washed her head wound and changed her bandage.  
When it came to going to sleep, Emma couldn't drift off. Her mat was several feet from the fire, several feet from where Ashwin lie sleeping. She watched the low glow of the fire, the occasional crackle of the firewood sending a gust of sparks into the still air. She could see his breathing was even by the rise and fall of his chest, but he was not snoring as he often did when he slept. She felt lonely, longing for his embrace. The feel of his arms around her, tucked into his chest, was one of the most comforting feelings she had ever felt.  
With the excuse of being a little cold, she moved her mat closer to the fire, closer to him. She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of the hearth, and imagined he was behind her now, cradling her small body in his large frame, wrapping her in warmth and security. It wasn't long before she fell into a deep sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

The first light of dawn found the commander's daughter and the Gurkha soldier leaving their cave. Emma's heart was heavy with melancholy at saying goodbye to the place she had recovered in. It had been five days since she had woken up, bruised and aching in the company of Ashwin Rana.

He shouldered his pack, pushing aside the thick vegetation which hid them from view. Emma followed him through the brush, her dirty white dress catching and ripping on the brambles. They walked at a comfortable pace through the jungle. She knew he was walking slowly for her sake, she was still bruised and her little brown boots were not really suitable for walking in such terrain. Not only that but her dress and hair seemed to catch on every branch and twig that protruded out of the mass of greenery surrounding them.

They followed the edge of the steep mountain valley, the route Ashwin had taken when carrying her. Their progress was slow, and sometimes they had to walk up steep hills to stay as close to the mountain route as possible. Emma's head was throbbing by the time the sun was high in the blue sky, so they stopped for a quick break.

The chief commander slammed his fist onto the wooden desk, shaking the furniture with the force of his blow. 'It's been five days and still no sign of a hostage agreement! Our scouts can't even locate her! If they have her then for God's sake let them alert us so I can put my mind to rest!'

'Sir perhaps they are still preparing for negotiations?' his brigadier asked nervously.

'After five days? What are they waiting for - the bastards! My wife has been weeping non-stop, my whole household is in uproar!' He slammed the table again, causing his quill and ink pot to fall on important documents. He cursed, wiping away the spillage. The British camp had been in chaos after the presumed abduction of his daughter. When his soldiers had headed out in search of the missing party, they found the bodies of the five cavalry guards, and six dead horses, but no girl. They had thought she could have escaped - but why had she not come home? The only option was to believe she had been taken hostage by the barbaric Gurkha army.

He could not risk an attack if she was in their company - but it had been five days and he was becoming desperate. They could have done a whole manner of awful things to her by now. His wife and family were in his ear, pleading with him to get her back. His advisors were in his other ear, pleading to attack.  
Increasingly the only option left to him, was to launch the full on invasion. Yesterday an advancement of 2,000 troops had arrived from India to assist them. All the soldiers were ready to fight at a moment's notice. He need only give the word. The best time for attack is now.

He stood up abruptly, his chair clattering down behind him, causing his brigadier to jump. His mind was made, after five days of indecision they were ready. 'We make war today. Prepare for a full invasion against the Gurkhas, we march at noon!'

Ashwin handed Emma a travel cake, made of beaten rice and fish mashed together. It was delicious and walking had made her incredibly hungry. From their vantage point on a rocky outcrop on the valley's side, they could see a fair distance across the sloping canopy of trees below. They sat in companionable silence, eating and drinking from the water flask. The wind moved gently through the trees, stirring up the leaves and bringing with it the sounds of the birds. It was peaceful and serene.  
However, as they were preparing to leave and head back down, following Ashwin's path, they heard some disturbance below. Emma grew alarmed as the noises became louder. It sounded like men shouting, she turned to Ashwin to ask him what it was, when she heard the unmistakeable boom of cannon fire. The colour drained from her face when she realised what was beginning. The sounds of gunshots and more and more shouting echoed through the valley. Ashwin's face looked as stunned as hers. For a minute the two of them stood frozen.

'How am I going to get home?' Emma asked, her fear evident in her voice. She turned to him, placing her hands on his forearms for reassurance. She was scared now not only for his life, but for her own. They were still miles away from home, and the forest was turning into a battle ground.

Ashwin looked at her, taking her hands in his. 'You're not going home. Not today anyway. We could get captured or caught in a crossfire.. I'm not taking you down there. We need to get to a safe place until this dies down.'

She could see his mind racing as he looked back out over the valley. The cannon fire was becoming louder, and her heart began to accelerate with fear. Her mind replaying the attack she had escaped from, her father's men being sliced open, the blood spouting from their necks. 'Where will we go?' she breathed, holding onto his hands tightly, praying that he would not leave her.

He looked down at her, sensing her distress. He placed a warm hand on her cheek. 'We will head south and find a place to hide. Another cave, a small village, somewhere that no one will find us. I will keep you safe, I promised you that before, and I don't intend to break it now.'

Emma didn't know why, but his honour and his promise to stay with her lifted a weight from her heart. She had been dreading saying goodbye to him once she was home. Even though she couldn't return to her mother and father, part of her was relieved. She wanted to stay close to her rescuer. Emma held onto his hand like a lifeline as they headed south, disappearing into the jungle.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

It had begun to rain that evening, un-relenting, a monsoon-like downpour for so early in the season. It was making the ground boggy and slick with mud. It was no condition to travel in, but they had no choice. They had spent the afternoon taking cover and running quickly from place to place. The floor of the valley was awash with soldiers and firing. He feared for her life with every boom of the cannon guns. Even when it felt like they were out of range, the ringing of gunshots echoed down the valley, making it seem like they were still within range of the soldiers.  
Ashwin didn't want to stop walking until the sun was completely down, they didn't want to waste any travel time. Even making a camp fire in a secluded spot or if they were very lucky - another cave - was risky. At night soldiers could see firelight from miles away.  
He broke out of his thoughts when he felt Emma slip in the mud behind him. They were drenched, their legs plastered in muck and their muscles aching. He pulled her up off her knees, and keeping her hand in his, kept up the march.  
The thought of losing her in a crossfire or some other horrible incident had made him realise the depth of his fondness for Emma. It would be to his utter desolation if she were somehow killed. The possessive feeling he had experienced during their kiss had been proof even then, that he wanted her to be his. He wouldn't admit it to her, but he was almost glad that she didn't have to go home. He wanted to stay with her, to be her protector, to be anything she needed him to be. It was foolish thinking he knew, but he couldn't deny his feelings when they were so obvious to him.  
She slipped again, pulling him back. 'I'm sorry' she mumbled, lifting her dress from the mud. He pulled her wet body back up once again, lifting her easily in his arms.

'Don't apologise.' He had to stop himself from kissing her once again. Instead he placed her back down, taking her hand and continuing the relentless walk to safety. The storm that was rolling in, showering them with rain, was worsening. The warm weather of the day was fading, and it would not do any good to be wet and cold. It would not be safe to continue in this weather after much longer.

'When will it be safe to stop for the night, Ashwin?' she asked, her voice faint with exhaustion. 'I admit that I am feeling quite hungry by now, not to mention a little wet.'

'We will stop soon,' he replied, smiling at her polite way of complaining. He scouted as they walked for anywhere that would offer suitable shelter from what was looking like a heavy storm. 'Keep your eyes alert for anywhere that we can shelter' he told her over his shoulder.

'I'll do my best' she replied.

They continued through the dense jungle, following subtle animal trails that cut through the mass of trees and plants. They tried to stick close to the walls of the valley, where caves and outcrops could offer shelter.  
The temperature was beginning to drop rapidly and Ashwin was getting more and more worried by the minute. He could not risk one of them catching fever. They were soaked, hungry, tired, and now cold. He turned back to Emma. The wind was picking up and he had to speak louder, 'we might have to make a tent in the hollow of a tree and try our luck. There doesn't seem to be any other option.'

They found a large tree and managed, despite the wind, to clip Ashwin's army tent up to form a low swooping structure. It would not do, he thought. The wind and rain meant no fire, and they needed to get warm.

'Ashwin!' Emma called out to him through the increasing gale of wind. Her wet hair whirled in the wind, becoming stuck on her cheeks. She was further away up the slope, pointing at something. 'Look!'

He hurried to her, and could have almost jumped for the joy which surged through him. A rocky outcrop up the slope protruded out from the mountain side, offering a small but cosy natural shelter beneath it. He ran to fetch their supplies, and headed back up. Together they secured his tent cloth to the top of the outcrop and pinned it down into the ground, completely encompassing the space and offering a wind barrier to the natural elements. It was only up close that he realised how small the space was. It was only a little higher than his hip, but it was deep and dry at the back where the rain had not yet touched. Emma headed in first, then he, securing the last peg into the ground as he retreated backwards into the small overhang.

On his hands and knees, he double checked the pegs were in tight, and wouldn't fly away in the night. The fabric shuddered slightly with each gust of wind, but otherwise looked secure. He looked at Emma, snugly lying at the back of the cave, her eyes already shut as if asleep. Her wet white dress revealed every thing below it. He couldn't stop himself from staring, now that their crisis was over. Her nipples, hard from the cold, pressed against the wet fabric at her breast. The dress clung to the dip in her waist and rose up to her hip, dipping down again to reveal the shape of her beautiful legs. He broke his eyes away. More important things needed to be done.  
He searched his pack and brought out some matches, which miraculously had stayed dry. There was some leaves and twigs at the back of the overhang which were dry, which he collected and started a small but cheery fire. He got out his little metal kettle and stuck his arm outside holding it to fill it with rain water. He set up the apparatus over the fire and hung the kettle to boil. He then took off his tunic, laying it as flat as he could near the opening. He also kicked off his boots and trousers, so that he was only in his underlinen.  
Normally he wouldn't dare in front of a lady, but becoming dry was an urgent need. If not he would catch his death of cold.  
He then turned his attention to Emma, she needed to get warm. The young woman was shivering, looking deathly pale and still soaking wet.  
'Emma, come here, have some tea. You need to warm yourself.'

She slowly sat up and crawled closer to the fire. Ashwin lifted his palm to her usually warm rosy cheek, feeling the freezing flesh with concern. He reached for his blanket and sleeping mat, both of which were a little damp despite his waterproofed pack, and set them up at the back of the shelter where it was most dry and warm.

He didn't know how to broach the subject of removing clothes, but he knew she needed to warm up, and the little fire alone wasn't going to do it.  
'Emma, please don't think ill of me when I ask this - but you need to take off that wet dress. You will catch a fever for certain.'

She looked at him with wide blue eyes, immediately drawing her arms over her chest in defence. 'I will not do such a thing.'

'Your skin is like ice,' he urged her. 'You can wrap yourself in the blanket until your dress is dry, but please, you must.'

She eyed the blanket, then looked back at him, the uncertainty in her eyes turning into resolution. 'Okay, but first turn around.'

He did as he was told, waiting until her signal before looking. She was wrapped in his blanket, her bare legs sticking out from where the blanket was't big enough to cover. The thought of her completely naked body underneath it sent a wave of welcome heat through his still chilled body. She glanced at him and then away, a faint colour appearing on her cheeks and a little smile on her face.

The two ate the last of the travelling food, drank some tea, and, exhausted, retreated to the back of the cave to sleep. Ashwin made sure Emma had the sleeping mat and blanket, and that she was close enough to the fire's small but greatly appreciated heat.  
He lay behind her, listening to the sounds of the raging storm outside. He felt cosy, but still a little cold, and still nervous about soldiers finding their spot.  
As if reading his mind, Emma rolled over so she was facing him, her head poking out of the blanket. Her drying hair created a halo of soft fluff around her head. She was so close, so warm and beautiful, he longed to hold her and never let go.

'I can see that you are cold and wide awake Ashwin. You don't need to be nervous about the soldiers. We are well hidden.' her soft voice and closeness made him shiver.

'I hope you are right.' he said, his eyes not able to leave hers.

'Come here,' she urged him to come closer. He swallowed thickly, his arousal already evident in his underlinen and cursing himself for how easily she could see it. 'I can't, it's not…its not proper.'

She looked away, and he could see her trying to find the right words in Nepali to say something important. She looked back up at him and took his hands in hers bringing them close to her heart, warming them.

'Ashwin, I - I, I need you. I need you to hold me tonight. I'm sorry if you don't want to, but I have to tell you that…that I need you. I want you to always be in my life, you make me feel like no one else, so safe and warm and loved. Even if it's not true, I just…' she stumbled on her words, 'I just want you, need you. You have done so much for me, I think that I am in love with you.'

He had been holding his breath, not daring to believe the words which fell from her lips were real.  
'Emma, I don't know what to say, only that I never thought I would hear these words from you,' he cupped her cheek with his palm, looking at the face which he had come to adore. Her eyes were bright with hope at his caress. 'I have loved you since the moment I found you. All I want to do is protect you, to hold you close forever, to make you my woman. Will you let me? My angel?'

He kissed away the tears of happiness which flowed freely from Emma's eyes, moving to her cheeks, her nose, her lips. He couldn't believe he was kissing her, that he was on top of her, her half naked body his to possess. He kissed her deeply, passionately, all their pent-up emotions releasing in a tidal wave of unrestrained love. Her hands were in his hair, the blanket forgotten. His hands were on her cheek, then her neck, kissing the pale skin of her throat, breathing in her sweet scent mixed with the fresh taste of rain water. She let out a soft gasp as he pressed himself against her, his tanned toned body flush against her soft, pale skin. Her soft gasps and moans were creating a surge of desire straight to his engorged manhood. Her back arched as he sucked on the delicate skin of her neck, pleasure washing through her in waves of tingling bliss. Everything felt new and she gave herself fully over to the sensations he was so eager to bestow.

All Emma knew she wanted was him, all of him, forever. She was lost in his touch, his caress, there was nothing she had ever craved more. She was ready for the 'intimates' of marriage, he had just told her he wanted her as his woman. Emma had never been more certain of anything in her whole life, than of her destiny to be Ashwin's wife.  
She raked her nails over his scalp as he kissed along her collarbone, his large hands roaming beneath the blanket, grazing along the sides of her body, massaging the tender skin of her hips, before squeezing her round bottom. When he began to kiss her breasts, she felt slightly nervous, only because no one had ever seen them besides her maids, but her shyness didn't last long. She gasped as his lips latched onto a hard pink nipple, sucking eagerly. His hands caressed and squeezed her large creamy mounds, causing her cry out with unbridled pleasure. It was too much and at the same time not enough. She arched her back, feeling his erect manhood bump against her inner thigh. She longed to touch it, feel it's weight in her hands.

Ashwin moved his mouth to her other nipple, licking and sucking, admiring how her skin glowed like alabaster, her perfect pink nipples and full lips reminding him of fresh strawberries against the cream of her skin. She was breathtaking, and he revelled in every moan that escaped her, the pleasure that he alone was bringing her.

Moving away from her breasts, he looked down at her rosy pink face. There was no denying that they were both fully warm and dry by now. Her previously icy skin was now warm and supple flesh, soft beneath his firm grip. He pushed aside some curls from her face.

'Are you alright?' he asked.

'Yes' she beamed at him, brining him down for another searing kiss. She moved to his throat, and then up to his ear, her breath ghosting along the delicate shell, and then she sucked hungrily on the lobe, his painfully erect manhood swelling even further. He hissed and moved her away, trying to calm his racing heart.  
'Can I?' he breathed, lowering his hand to her most sacred place.  
'Yes' she said, the trust in her eyes evident. She gasped as he began to stroke his fingers gently over her wet folds. She felt shaky as he applied more pressure, kissing her whilst he stirred feeling down there which she had never felt. Her hips bucked upwards as he rubbed her most sensitive spot. 'Oh!' she gasped, her hands fisting in his hair. She felt like something was building but she didn't know what.  
When he slid a finger inside her and began to move it, the pleasure was like nothing she'd ever felt. 'Ashwin' she breathed into his ear.  
'Emma, are you ready? We don't have to do anything you're not ready for.'

She nodded, 'I am ready. I want to be yours. I want you to take me.'

The look of trust and love in her eyes made him swoop back down for another kiss. His member was now flush against her naked folds, pulsating with the fullness of his need. He sat back up, opening her legs and removing his underlinen.  
He reached down and guided his manhood to the wet core between her thighs. They both gasped as it touched her rose pink petals, gliding against the wetness of her folds. With a trembling hand he pushed the tip inside, then slowly thrust up into her.  
A rough sound escaped him, the pleasure of her tightness and warmth almost too much to bear. Emma braced herself against the searing pain that marked the end of her virtue. It brought tears to her eyes, which were quickly kissed away. The feeling of being ripped in two began to fade as he slowly began to pump into her with shallow thrusts, his face still beside her, kissing her eyes, cheeks, lips and holding her body close to his. She felt loved, her muscles relaxed and soon the pain disappeared entirely.

Mounting pleasure began to build again, the same intensely blissful feeling she had felt before, but this time, the feeling built up incredibly fast. It wasn't long before she was crying out in pleasure, clinging onto his back, her nails digging into his skin. It felt so good to have him inside her. Ashwin rested his head in the crook of her neck, unable to hold himself up long enough to kiss her. He set up a fast rhythm, gripping the soft flesh of her hips with force, trying to create as much friction as possible whilst he pumped into her. Since it was the first time for the two of them, it wasn't long before Ashwin reached his climax. The white hot fire that had been building between them finally soared as he issued a final furious onslaught before spilling his hot seed deep inside her womb.

The morning found the two lovers out in the clear and sunny day. They had left later than planned, being unable to move from the heaven they had found in each other's arms. It was a long walk, and many days later that they finally arrived in a small town. Ashwin arranged transport, and the two of them escaped by train to India to marry. No one knows what happened to the couple after that, except that they lived happily ever after.

The End :)


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